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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24202552">Soldier Keep On Marching On</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thebluefriend/pseuds/Thebluefriend'>Thebluefriend</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sherlock (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Angst, Brotherly Bonding, Did I Mention Angst?, Drug Addiction, F/M, Family Bonding, Gay Character, Heartbreak, M/M, Mary Dies of natural causes, Multi, Oblivious John, Read at Your Own Risk, Seriously this is shit ton of angst, Sherlock Holmes and Drug Use, Sherlock in Love, Slow Burn, Suicide Attempt, Two gay dads, nicotine addiction</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 15:08:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,019</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24202552</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thebluefriend/pseuds/Thebluefriend</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock realized he loved John a little too late. That was the worst mistake and the biggest regret of his life.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Mary Morstan/John Watson, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Soldier Keep On Marching On</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Sherlock left the building. He couldn't think clearly in this chaos. He saved John's colleague. He can go home now; he doesn't have to be there and have fun, right? This wasn't in his style anyway. Tears started rolling down his cheeks. Although... Why couldn't he bring himself to feel happy for John? Why couldn't he be proud of his friend? John's happiness was the only thing that mattered to him. Mary was a wonderful woman, perfect for him. They were expecting a child whom they will surely love. What was wrong? More and more tears were flooding his face. When the man finally reached the road, he waited for the first cab to catch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"221B, Baker Street." He said bluntly, fastening his seatbelt. The detective pulled out his wallet. The tears just kept on coming; he couldn't stop them. He decided to ignore them as he always did, looking out the cab window. His thoughts were running wild and there was nothing Sherlock could do about it, so he just let it all happen. Each one burned a trail in his flesh, unbearable pain in his heart making him weep softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fight with a girl, huh?" The driver tore him out of his deep thought, making him quiver, before simply nodding. "It's gon' be okay. Don't bother yourself."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, it will, I know." The only thing Sherlock wanted at the moment was for the driver to shut the bloody hell up. He didn't wish to talk to anyone; his voice was cold and distant, full with sorrow he tried so hard to disguise as an annoyance. The rest of the way both men in the car stayed silent. When they finally arrived at the destination, Sherlock paid without waiting for the change and left. The door wasn't locked, so he suspected miss Hudson just forgot to do it. Each step made his heart shatter. John wasn't his anymore. His best friend had his own life. He wondered why he didn't actually kill himself after Moriarty told him to. The unexpected pain of the heartbreak was unbearable. He didn't bother to knock, just pushing the door open. His shirt was already wet from the tears rolling down his face, more and more with every second, looking like he had just finished a marathon. When the man stepped inside, he fell to his knees; the scream of anguish he let out was reflecting all of his emotions. He didn't bother looking up when he sensed a light touch on his shoulder, only doing so when the voice above him rang through the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Let's get you taken care of, little brother." The red-haired man sighed, helping Sherlock get up. Then the detective did something completely unexpected. He fell right into Mycroft's arms, crying his eyes out right onto his shoulder, squeezing him tightly. The older man sighed, hugging his brother back. "I'm here, little brother. Let it out." They stayed like that for a good hour; Sherlock had a lot of emotions bottled up in his mind. Why did he let himself fall in love John? Where was his brilliant mind when he caught those nasty feelings? When he finally managed to get himself together, Mycroft silently guided him to the kitchen, preparing tea for them both afterwards. Sherlock hasn't uttered a single word, gazing lifelessly toward the table. "Will you tell me what happened at the wedding, brother de-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No. Don't- don't talk about it." Detective took a shaky breath, wiping away what was left of his tears. "I need some heroin."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sherlock, no. You are not going back to that." Mycroft sighed heavily, leaning against the kitchen counter before another outburst from his brother caught him off guard</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm an adult! You can't tell me what to do!" With that, the younger man stormed outside. He didn't want to look at the empty flat, </span>
  <em>
    <span>their</span>
  </em>
  <span> flat without John in it. John's empty chair, his bedroom, the table he used to sit at when he worked on his blog... He couldn't take any of this. He didn't know where he was going, he just knew he had to do something to forget. If remembering was so painful, he'd rather kick John out of his mind. But how could he do it? All the memories he dared call beautiful, all the moments they've been through, all the times' John praised him for his deductions... how could he just erase it? He ran until there was no air left in his lungs, he felt like he ran through the whole of London. When he couldn't run anymore, he just collapsed to the ground, the world fading around him. Sherlock hoped he exhausted his body enough to pass out, but he wasn't so lucky. He couldn't move, but he couldn't sleep either. He was taking deep breaths as cars passed by him, no one stopping to help. When the sun finally started rising on the horizon, a short man approached him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oi, you look down. Want something to cheer you up, mate?" At those words, Sherlock's head turned on its own. He quickly realized it was a drug dealer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Do you have heroin and cigarettes?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Heroin sure, but no fags, sorry."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Could you go buy some for me? I'll pay you twice. And I'll take the heroin." Sherlock reached for his wallet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sure, my pleasure." The man chuckled, reaching out for the money.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Just don't roll me off, I know where you live." Clear bluff, but it worked as the man nodded hastily before leaving to get the cigarettes. Sherlock pulled himself up, leaning against the nearest wall to sit. His head was spinning wildly. Where did he make a mistake? When did he fall in love with John? What did that man change in his life that he was able to let down the walls he carefully built for so many years around his heart? The dealer was back before Sherlock could notice. He gave the detective what he paid for and left to a destination only known to him. A cab pulled over next to Sherlock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oi, need a ride?"</span>
</p>
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